yeah, yeah, i know.
The nail marks never started at the top -
no, we were always halfway when we realized
we were falling down, down with nothing to leave behind
but the bits and pieces of ourselves, the dead parts.
Growing, sprouting beauty but purposeful to scrape,
just to tear surfaces and fulfill our lust for things raw -
things broken, shards and the logical reasoning
of placing them together.
Halfway down, we reap no rewards but the
icy ground sloshing at the bottom - sharp bits and ends
to perhaps make a pathway to heaven for the person
on their thousandth fall.
